


Fade

by breakneck



Category: Fiction - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Gen, NaNoWriMo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 08:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakneck/pseuds/breakneck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a novel I am writing for NaNoWriMo, you are welcome to read it, but I'm posting so that I can use archive's .mobi formatter to put this thing on my kindle. </p><p>The novel is about Kay and Kate, a pair of friends who have discovered a secret group of people who fight terrifying monsters called "fade" that cause depression-like symptoms and can even kill their victims. Trust me, it's much better-written than this blurb. I'm terrible at blurbs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fade

          I am a person who knows who I am at all times. My sense of self is very precise. I spend a lot of time considering how I feel about things before coming to a conclusion. This tactic has served me well. I don’t make too many rash decisions and I know where I stand on a lot of issues.

          I am a mirage. I have the ability to take on my “true form.” I know that’s a strange thing to say, but think about it. When a person dies the body is still there, but the person you knew is gone. Your soul does not equal your body; your body is inhabited by the soul. But what does that look like? Who would you be if you could be anybody-or no, not anybody, but you? What would it be like to be the inner you? Actually, you know what, that’s not quite right either.

          Shit.

          Let me start over.

          I am a mirage; a wavering image shimmering in heated air. Have you ever looked at someone you’ve known for years and realized that they looked totally different than the way you picture them in your head? All of the facial features are there, the hair is where it’s supposed to be, the voice is the same, but there’s something about them that you just don’t recognize. Maybe this doesn’t happen to people who don’t have trouble maintaining eye contact, but anyway, this is the phenomenon I’m trying to describe. People see themselves a certain way, and your friends and your enemies and the kid on the street that you stooped and picked up their toy and chased after them to return it all see you differently. There’s your physical body and then there are these ideas that make up “you.” The people you see are the shadows that slide across the walls of Plato’s cave.

          I know how to utilize it. I can become myself. I know that sounds stupid, but it’s true. There are plenty of people who become themselves for a little bit every once in a while and nobody notices. I think it’s a natural part of being human. But some of us can go a little further. Some of us are a little farther apart in our “selves.” We live lives that don’t reflect who we are underneath, our bodies are ill-matched, or our souls are too full or any number of reasons… But we have learned how to show this real version of ourselves. And I want you to know too.

*I want you to know how too.

God. I’m sorry, I know this is sort of out-of-the-blue.

Over the course of an hour I sent all these messages to Kate, my best friend who lives in Raleigh. I am sitting alone in my room in the muggy August weather wondering what she will say to me when she gets online and reads this. Will she think it’s a joke? Will she think I’m just trying to tell her another story idea? God, I’m such an idiot. I don’t even know if this will help her. I sit here and browse the internet for a while and wait for her to get on and eventually I forget that I even sent it at all until I hear the “message received” bleep.

My fingers stop their barrage of typing. I flick the message open unable to read the contents for a moment, instead catching random words in the response as I scan the length of the reply.

Kate: What is all this Kay? I’ve read it twice and I still don’t really understand. Is this a story idea? Or is this a confession of some kind? What are you trying to say? I mean, I can’t say I haven’t wondered who I was before, but this is more intense than what I have done. I just, I don’t really know what to say.

I can see her typing more, but I start typing to cut her off and explain myself. I get as far as, “Kate, please don’t-“ and another reply appears.

I’m really interested to hear what you mean though. You know I always want to hear what you have to say.

I squeeze my eyes shut and plunge ahead.

Kay: Well, I’m not really sure how else to explain it.

Kay: But it’s true

Kay: Or real

Kay: I mean real.

Kay: Or I’m massively crazy

Kay: But seriously, I don’t know if I can show you with my cam or not. I’m not totally sure if everybody else can see it, or just people who can do it.

I can see that she’s typing but I cut her off

Kay: I’ll try to show you, okay? But I warn you, I’m a little nervous so it might not be pretty.

Kate: Okay

Kate: Do I need to do anything?

Kay: Just sit tight.

I call her with video enabled. I wait for her to accept. All at once I am face-to-face with Kate, her glasses shining and making it hard to see her eyes. Her dark hair is pulled into a ponytail and she is leaned in so that her face is taking up most of the screen. I laugh awkwardly.

“Okay, so I know I wasn’t making any sense earlier. But, I just thought, “Hell, what’s the point in having a cool power if you don’t share it with your friend?” And I thought you might need some cheering up. But yeah, anyway, let me just show you. Or try to show you. I don’t know if I can do it with an audience.” I say. Kate says something in response, but I can’t really look at her right now and I can’t focus on her to hear what she’s saying.

I feel my soul in my gut. It might be different for other people, but for me, when something really good or really bad happens, I feel it in a space just above my groin. I focus on this space. I think of reaching down and peeling off skin and muscle and there is something glowing there. I think of the eyes I sometimes see shining back at me when I open my own eyes too quickly. I think about walking barefoot in the dark and not making a sound and not worrying where I step. I did it. I can feel the difference. I let out a breath. I feel my tail twitch. I open an eye to see how Kate has reacted.

She is staring at the screen. Her heavy breathing is distorted in my speakers.

I stare back from hazel eyes that sparkle with more flecks of gold than usual and pupils that narrow into slits. I reach up and close my laptop.

“Stop!” says Kate just before the monitor makes contact.

I freeze in place. My long brown fox tail bristles. I push the screen back into alignment.

Kate has one hand up holding her glasses down and she’s leaned even further into the screen. She doesn’t say anything for several seconds. I start talking.

“Okay, so, yeah, like I said, this is sort of what my soul looks like I guess? I mean, that’s not totally right. I can tell my eyes are way bigger this time, and I think there’s way more hair around my face than there has been before. I was worried you would think I was a monster” I laugh, but it’s not funny. Her eyebrows are trying to have a meeting, so I keep going.

“So yeah, my physical self and my soul look pretty similar, but I hear some people look pretty different. I have always tried to be a “what you see is what you get” kind of person, so I guess that’s why. I haven’t really had that much of a chance to find out yet.”

“Similar? But your ears…What’s up with that?” Kate says, finally speaking.

“It’s not just the ears; it’s a lot of me. It would take a while to explain, and it probably wouldn’t be that interesting. But the short version is that since I was a little kid I’ve always wanted to be able to be an animal. When I was small it was a cat, they’re really quiet and intelligent. But I’m allergic to cats, but not dogs. So when I was a kid, I was heartbroken. What animal would be the next best thing? So I hit upon foxes, which to a kid is all the benefits of cats (small, quiet, intelligent) but all the perks of a dog as well (not allergic, loyal). Then in seventh grade I heard about Japan’s nine-tailed foxes and it stuck. Foxes forever!

Shit. I went on longer than I meant to and that didn’t really help this make sense… I’m sorry, Kate. You know I tend to go on tangents. Anyway, I like animals to a near spiritual level because the kid me liked animals, so I kind of look like an animal. At least, that’s how I understand it.” I say. Kate shakes her head.

“Alright. So, how much of you is affected? Can you show me? I just can’t really believe this is happening. I know it’s you and all, but, yeah. Show me.” Her eyes alternate from a sort of glazed expression to sharp focus.

“Well, I’m just glad you’re still with me. I know it’s really strange.” I smile and remember my teeth.

“Here’s something.” I lean in and show her my teeth, every single one a pointed canine-type tooth. I run my tongue over them for good measure. I do not cut myself.

“Why are they all sharp?” She says fascinated. I look downward.

“I always thought if I were going to be a monster I’d have sharp teeth and when I was a little kid I thought cats and dogs’ teeth were all sharp. I thought, no matter how non-threatening the face, if you had teeth like that, people would be scared.” I almost whisper this.

“So, you look like this because you’re trying to intimidate people? But you said it was your soul… This doesn’t really make any sense…” Kate says. I think she’s trying her best to understand, but it’s hard when the concept is so abstract and surreal.

“I’m not really sure why that is, but I think it’s also because I was afraid of what you would think. I was afraid you would think I was a monster and my fear made me more monster-like. My teeth usually aren’t this sharp, and my claws aren’t so big and blunt. I think even my fingertips are bigger and tougher. I don’t know, it’s just what I was told.” I hold my hands up so that she can see the blunt black claws where my fingernails should be, and the thickened ends of my fingertips.

“Yeah, you mentioned that it was affected by how other people see you too. But wouldn’t that just be how you _think_ I see you? I see you as a friend but I don’t know how that would represent visually.” She says. I realize as a passing thought that Kate is dealing incredibly well with all of this.

“I don’t know, I just know what that girl told me. I think she expected me to be too freaked out to play with this, but she misestimated me big time. And of course, I couldn’t keep something this cool to myself, especially not when this could be really awesome. We could be crime fighters, for god’s sake!” I say, throwing out the suggestion without expecting much in return.

“What girl? Start at the beginning, Kay.” Says Kate.

“Okay so, there was this girl-Well, I met this girl the other day and she asked me to do her a favor. I had gone to get my comics, and this girl came in behind me, I noticed her because it’s a little unusual to see girls there, and I usually try to befriend them, or Rob tries to introduce me. Rob’s the comic shop guy, by the way. Anyway, so I was just trying to get my comics and get out of there as quickly as possible, which is hard because Rob is really sweet and he always talks to you forever, and when I had finally handed him my stuff I glanced around and had the worst feeling of déjà vu…” I say. Thinking about it, it was really intense this time.

Kate prompts me by asking “Déjà vu?”

“Oh, yes, I think I’ve mentioned this to you, but I have really weird déjà vu. I’m not sure why, but I swear when I have it, I know that I dreamed what is happening before, sometimes I think I can even remember when I dreamed it. But the weird part is that it’s often accompanied by a sense that something really bad will happen if the scenario doesn’t play out exactly like I dreamed it.”

My eyes have been staring at random points in my room and I refocus on Kate. I can’t see her eyes for the glare so I just keep going.

“But seriously, I’m not crazy, nor do I think it’s real; I’ve tested it. There was an instance where the scenario was, I either blessed my little brothers out for walking down the middle of the parking lot, or a monster truck came out of nowhere and ran them over. The feeling of dread was really intense, but I knew there was no way that was going to happen, so I let the moment pass. It turns out, if I don’t follow the “instructions” (I make air quotes) the moment of déjà vu continues, only not doing what I feel compelled to do was actually the right thing to do and nothing happens. If I was somehow psychic it would be a really shitty power, it doesn’t really tell me anything.”

“That’s really intense.” She pauses, thinking. “That sounds really scary, but I guess you have it worked out. But how does this relate to all of this?” She gestures towards me.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. You know how I am, all of my stupid stories are too freaking involved. Anyway, so I had a moment of that kind of intense dread déjà vu, and normally I can just pretend nothing happened but the scenario was that if I didn’t talk to her (POSSIBLY CHANGE TO WARN ROB THAT HE WOULD HAVE A HEART ATTACK IF I DIDN’T TELL HIM)  Rob was going to have a heart attack right there, and even though I know it’s not possible and wouldn’t happen, the image that came to mind was really vivid and I hesitated for a second before I could grab my books and I looked away and accidentally made eye contact with this girl so I smiled at her.

Rob, of course, thinks that I want to befriend her and proceeds to introduce us and make small talk. Her name is Simone, she seems friendly, and we’re similar in age, so I’m cool with this. I doubt I’ll see her again, but you never know and it would be good to make another friend. He introduces me as someone who makes costumes and introduces her as someone who a few years ago used to be an active part of a “real-life superhero” group that patrolled the neighborhood watching out for petty crime and whatnot. She says that they don’t really do it anymore, and blushes and I say something about how I always thought that would be cool to do. It wasn’t really that memorable, I just want to go home really. “

“So, wait, those are the people that dress up in superhero costumes and go out to try and help people, right?” Angela says in a break in the conversation.

“Yeah, that’s it essentially. I had thought about it myself, but I’m a weenie and it’s pretty low-crime in Bristol. I would feel like a target in an outfit anyway. I don’t have high-hopes for making friends much anymore, and I’m not even sure I want to live in Bristol forever so I just forgot about it. And then a couple of weeks ago I got off work pretty late and it had been a terrible day, I was upset, and I decided to stop and get a doughnut at Blackbird. I parked close to the entrance, State Street is pretty scary at night, and I’m about to go in, when I hear this horrible shriek from the other side of the street. I don’t know what possessed me Kate, I would normally just duck my head and run, but I guess I thought I could help so I took off across the street as swiftly and quietly as I could.

In the alleyway between an art shop and a wine store I saw what had made the noise. It was that girl, I wouldn’t have known her especially from behind but Simone had a really distinctive bear-head backpack, like a sort of realistic bear’s head. I’m freaking out, because I see that it’s her, only she had these big beautiful wings, pure white, and a great-sword that shone under the street-lamp. She had a mirrored mask over the top half of her face, and had armor over her arms and legs.” I say as I try to trace the intricate patterns of the armor in the air with my finger as if that will help Kate see the impressive figure of Simone in armor.

“There was something dark and insubstantial writhing in the end of the decrepit alley.  I must have made a noise, because she turned and saw me and she could tell by the look on my face that I could see her. When she turned the thing jumped up onto the roof of the building.

                The girl sighed and then ran up to me and grabbed my hand.

“Come on, I need help tonight. Who are you? Who are you really?” she said. I couldn’t really focus on the question.

So I asked her who she was and she said:

“No, No! That’s not important! Who are you deep down? When nobody is around, who are you? Feel it deep inside you. That makes the magic easier to work.”

I was confused obviously so I just asked her what she was talking about. She said she didn’t have time for this crap and took the blunt of her sword and wacked me in the leg with it.

It hurt, intensely, so much more than the blow called for. I backed away from her, but she held my hand firmly in her gauntleted fingers. There was a feeling of intense heat that radiated from my midsection outwards and then I felt normal again. Better than normal, I felt this weird peace with myself. I was standing there trying to put my finger on the sensation when she jerked me forward and told me to follow her.”

I glance at Kate to make sure she’s still following the story.

“So, what did she do to you exactly? Are you okay?” Kate says.

“Well, I’m not really sure how she did it, but I think she forced me to transform somehow. I guess she didn’t have time to tell me how to change myself. Anyway, I didn’t realize that anything had really happened to me, I just did what she told me. So she pulls me in the direction of the alley and I start to freak out because this strange angel-woman is dragging me into God-knows-where and I start yelling, “WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?????” She responds by telling me that we, “absolutely have to catch this guy” and that “he’s been making trouble on her turf for too long.” Then, she got around behind me, grabbed me around the waste and flew up on top of the wine store. I was floored. I hadn’t really believed the wings were real but then she used them. She puts me down and I turn to face her. She points at me.

“Sniff him out.” She said.

“How do you expect me to do that?” I protest.

“Well, God. You look like some kind of animal; use your nose.” She said.

“ _Excuse_ me? You’re the damn animal. What are you trying to do here?” I said.”

My voice dropped in timbre just repeating the story. Even though she had a weapon, I had been feeling unusually brave. I continue speaking:

“Then, she put her face right in mine, and I could see myself reflected in her helmet. My teeth were gritted and I could see their points and make out my ears pricked forward in the light of a street lamp. I gasped and put my hands up to touch my ears.

“See, I told you. Now, why don’t you sniff him out?” Simone said gesturing out into the night with her sword arm.

“H-How can I? I don’t know what I’m smelling for, and I don’t have a really great nose, my sister does.” I say. The situation is so surreal at this point that I guess my brain just decided that I should play along for the most part. There was just too much to process.

“Your sister isn’t here. Besides, it looks to me that you’re some kind of fox or something with that tail and all. It would be a big help if you could sniff him out for me. I wouldn’t dare make you fight him or anything. Here, smell my sword. I bet you can just follow the trail after that.” She held her sword out, and I sniffed it. It’s strange. I could smell what must be blood; it smells the way it tastes, coppery and sickening. There was some other scent I couldn’t place, sort of like mildew. She was right, I took a step back and closed my eyes and took a big whiff of the night.

I could smell it somewhere far off. I moved past Simone to walk along the roof trying to find where it was strongest. I could hear her armor clanking behind me. I walked to the far edge of the roof and looked around. I didn’t see anything suspicious on the rooftops but I thought I could smell the scent coming from somewhere on another roof.

“Did you find anything?” Simone asked coming up behind me.

So I told her that I thought I might have, and she flew me over to the next rooftop. We kept this up for a while until I lost the trail completely and started to shiver in the cold.

“I guess I’m not going to find him tonight. I’ll take you back to your car now.” Said Simone. I had convinced myself that this was just a repetitive, if bizarre, dream. I just nodded and she carried me fairly easily back to my car several blocks away.

When she put me down she spoke quickly: “Next time, be sure to follow his scent more quickly. We lost him because he had too much time to get away. Give me your number so I can call you next time.”

I dug around in my purse and found a pen and an old receipt for art markers and wrote my number down. She snatched it away from me and turned off into the night waving over her shoulder.

It was just so freaking weird. I got in my car and pulled the visor down to check myself in the mirror and I could see my pupils were slits. As I watched they shrunk back to their normal state. I drove home mumbling to myself and wondering if I needed to be on some kind of medication. So that’s how I met Simone, and that’s how I got drug into all this.” I finish talking and rest my long nails on the keyboard. Kate just looks at a far corner of her room.

“Well, let me repeat everything back to you the way I understand it. What you’re telling me, is that a girl you met at a comic shop turned out to be a secret magical crime-fighter or something and she somehow managed to turn you into one too. If I couldn’t see it myself, it would sound a little far-fetched. How can you change without Simone around? Did you catch the guy? What happened there?” She questions.

I let my air out in one long stream, glad that Kate doesn’t doubt me.

                “Honestly, the wrap-up of that is even stranger.” I say and begin to recount everything as it happened several days later.

 

 

_Earlier That Week_

                My room is a complete mess. It is small and cramped with twenty-something years’ worth of clothes, toys, papers, furniture, bits of projects, and such. This is one of the unfortunate side effects of still living at home into your twenties and after you have obtained your degree. My twin bed is jammed against the northern wall with the single window bisecting the bed. There are various posters of bands and TV shows that are obscure if you’re the wrong kind of person, but instantly recognizable to those that have similar interests. I am already in my pajamas and had just turned off the light when I hear my phone vibrate.

“It’s not worth it,” I think to myself and I don’t check my phone.

Several minutes pass, I find myself on the threshold between dreams and waking when I hear a rapping at my window.

I stiffen and close my eyes tightly. I am given to bouts of paranoia over sounds on occasion so I try to ignore it. I hear it again, this time for a longer duration, more insistent.

I am afraid to move. It doesn’t sound like the window does when it the wind rattles it, this is too deliberate.

                “It’s nothing. You’re fine.” I whisper. I shift to make sure that my feet are covered by the blankets.

                “Hey, Kay, was it? I need to talk to you.” Says a voice from outside the window.

                I feel a stab of fear in my stomach and then realize with a start that the voice belongs to Simone. I turn my head by fractions to look, only to realize that the blinds are down and I can’t see anything. I cautiously sit up in bed and peek out the edge of the window. Sure enough, a winged figure stands on the edge of my second-story roof. I quickly throw on a bra and open the window.

                “C-can I help you?” I quaver as I try to sound sarcastic and in charge. Simone smiles. She squares her shoulders.

                “Simone says, “Listen, thank you so much for your help earlier, but I was wondering if you could help me again. The trail has gone pretty cold, and I absolutely can’t let this person wander the town free.

“Why is that?” I ask.

“I’m not so sure that I can stop him from hurting someone, it’s only a matter of time. Most of the time these creatures aren’t this big, this one was massive. I don’t want it to get away.” She says and grabs her arm just above the elbow.

I study her. This time I can see how she’s dressed more clearly. She’s wearing a yellow hound’s-tooth scarf, a black t-shirt with a design so faded I can’t make it out, black corduroy shorts and striped tights. Again, she wears the bear’s head backpack. Her hair is bobbed at chin-length and her mirrored mask has wings like a Viking’s helm on either side. The mask does not appear to be particularly attached to anything. Her lips are Ruby red and her skin is what makeup companies would call “olive” toned. Her armor is breathtaking and high fantasy, with a European design. There is a pattern of vines and thorns worked into the shining metal surface of each piece. Her torso is completely unarmored. Her sword is what I think is called a great sword, long and double-edged, clearly a two-handed weapon. The pommel is adorned with probably thirty strap keychains from various tv shows and fandoms. She does not have a scabbard. Her wings are huge and white, the tips would probably touch either end of my shitty room easily if stretched out. You would think she would have trouble standing upright…

“Well, are you going to come or not?!” Simone says, breaking my reverie.

“Well, yes, but only if you tell me how to do it myself.” I bargain.

“Tell you how to what? How to change? Why?” she asks.

                “Why not? Why shouldn’t I be able to do it?” I retort.

                “It’s just a waste of time really. It takes a long time for most people to pick it up.” She says.

                I resent that. I can feel the annoyance boiling. I’m not most people. I have excellent problem-solving skills. I let a little air escape my teeth.

                “Tell me how to do it, and next time I’ll have it figured out.” I say; my mouth a straight line. Simone doesn’t notice and keeps talking as she puts out a hand to pull me out the window.

                “You have to focus on who you are. It’s like that question you get in a job interview, “If your coworkers were to describe you, what would they say about you?” That’s the kind of stuff you need to think about and then, you just, I don’t know, snap into it. We don’t have time for this shit right now; we need to track that thing down!” She stamps her foot on our ancient tin roof and probably should have slid given the incline but somehow managed to stay upright. She hits me with her sword again as I’m trying work out the usefulness of that statement and carries me to the ground.

                “Run, fox girl.  Track that prey.” She says and pats me on the shoulder. I tense and feel the odd sensation of my ears folding back.

                “Easy, I just want you to smell out this beasty. I’ll take care of the rest.” Says Simone.

                “Fine.” I say and take the offered sword. The scent is old now. I breathe deeply and try to pick it up. After I think I know the smell, I take a few tentative steps. Trying not to look like a fool I turn my nose up and sniff into the wind hoping to catch something. The amount of things I could smell is momentarily distracting and I find myself wondering what all of these scents are…

                Simone starts pulling me along towards downtown Bristol. I hear the gravel in our driveway crunch and remember that I am barefoot. My feet, I discover, have developed thick pads and claws. Weird. She continues to pull me forward.

                “Look, there, do you see that dark sort of smudge over there? That’s a fade.” Simone points the thing out, at the corner of the street. There is a man there standing under the street light with a dog on a leash. I recognize him vaguely as my neighbor. He does not seem to see or notice the creature scuttling on his back.  Its appendages are hinged and pointed, the way a spider looks in a nightmare. The fade just barely qualifies as translucent and the area around it seems to be washed out and blend into the creature.  I cannot count the legs.

                “You stay back, I’ll kill it.” Said Simone.

                “How are you going to…?” I started to ask but she walks briskly up to the man and swings her sword into his back with enough force to knock him forward onto his hands and knees. She then beckons to me and flies up into the night. The man coughs. The dog barks and whirls in circles, unsure where to look.

I rock on my heels. The man was winded, but he gets to his feet. The fade had simply vanished, no blood or other tell-tale marks. Without looking around, the man drags his dog back into the house.

I take off running towards the center of town wondering what all of this meant and sniffing that same terrible moldy smell faintly as I pass the spot where the man had been standing.

I am now standing near the library.  My feet are dirty and cold. I have been wandering trying to pick up the scent. There are a lot of homeless people that hang around this part of town. Some of them talk to themselves or call out to people that aren’t there. I am scared. The fear makes me feel guilty.  I feel my tail bristle, each hair standing on end. But, I realize that I did not tuck my tail, that I am still in control, and I stand up straighter.

                “Did you find anything?” Simone says, dropping out of the sky behind me; but I hear her before she lands and turn to face her.

                “I, I don’t think so. I think I ‘ve managed to follow the scent, but the smell is faint. But listen, I think I would do a little better if you’d give me a little bit of an explanation to go on. What the hell happened back there? What was that thing?!” I nearly shout.

                “It’s a fade. I already told you that.” Simone smirks beneath her mask, and my own angry eyes are reflected back at me.

                “I know that, I’m not an idiot. Knowing the name of something in this case didn’t tell me much about it, though if you are going to force me to infer things I can do that too. But I’d rather not waste my time.” I say.

                “Fine. God. If you think it will help. A fade is a monster that latches onto people and makes them feel nasty, like depressed and stuff. You feel sadness and bitterness and stuff. I’m not saying they cause all of it, but they are attracted to unhappiness. Even when we kill them it doesn’t always cure their victim but it can help. We are killers of malaise.” Simone spits.

                “So, these things are walking depression? And if they latch onto you they can either make your depression worse or give you sadness or whatever?” I say.

                “That about sums it up. I’m not really sure which is the chicken and which is the egg in this scenario but that’s the gist of it. I think their venom can linger too. It can make it hard to function. Some fade stick with a person for a long time and others bite and move on, the emotions experienced differ too, but they are never positive emotions. We think they feed off of negative emotions somehow, but it’s not like you can study something easily that’s invisible to most people.” Simone says.

                “But if they’re invisible, how can we see them? Is that part of the “soul” thing?” I say making quotation marks with my fingers.

                “That’s part of it. We can transform because in this form we can fight the fade.  We are guardians against despair.”

                “So why me then? We’ve only met the once before, how did you know I wouldn’t run?” I can’t help but ask.

                “Because, you’re a survivor. You are one of those people who fought the fade or depression and won all by yourself.” Simone states.

                “How could you possibly know that?!” My tone is harsh as I speak.

“That type of depression leaves a distinct halo on the aura that is visible to many who have taken up this lifestyle. We consider that to be an honorable mark. You fought our biggest enemy and you won. You survived. Those who have survived tend to have a better sense of how to fight the fade as they have experienced its effects.” Simone says, her voice even.

“So what you’re saying is, I wreak of personal problems so you thought I’d be a good candidate to bring along, excellent!” I say throwing my arms up.

“Why not just get a victim of the monsters and bring them along? Wouldn’t that be easier? Just free the fucker and immediately recruit them!” I shriek. I’m not sure why this is bothering me so much.

“It’s too dangerous. If someone isn’t emotionally stable the fade’s venom works faster, and worse still, if a fade hunter that is bitten can go into full on parasite mode with the fade in charge of the host’s body. It’s really nasty stuff. We are chasing one of the “faded.” These are extremely violent and must be met with extreme prejudice.” Simone said, her ruby lips moving rapidly.

“See, was that so hard? But what about that other thing…? Do you mean to tell me that the thing we’re tracking is human? And what, you expect me to help you kill them? Are you fucking kidding me? Who do you think you are?” I’m shouting now, my ears are pricked forward and tail erect.

Simone backs away from me, her feet spread wide apart. Her fingers tense on her sword hilt.

“Listen, you need to calm down. We still don’t know what all you can do, and I don’t need you tearing into me just because you don’t like the rules. I’ve never had to do it, but if we have to stop this guy. If we don’t he’s going to hurt someone, maybe kill them. We don’t have a choice.” Simone does not lower her guard as she speaks. It infuriates me to not be trusted. I grit my teeth.

“Fine. We’ll find the bastard.” I say, but I’m not sure what I will do when we find him. I curse under my breathe and watch it drift upwards into the night.

 

End Chapter 1

 

 


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